Cash’s jaw tenses. I think I like him a little more than I did before.
“Game time,” Bishop says to me. “Every time I think you’re lying—” He pulls out a Swiss Army blade from his back pocket and flicks it open. “—you lose a piece of clothing.” He tilts his head. “And when you have no clothing left?” He glides the blade down my sternum to my belly button. “Then we’ll have to start getting creative.”
“This is bullshit!” I spit. “I fucking told you that I don’t know anything!” Goose bumps break out over my flesh, and he sees it. Grinning, he grips the knife in his hand and then grabs onto my thigh again. “I’d be real honest if I were you, kitty, ’cause boundaries?” he taunts. “Those are things I don’t have.”
“Fine!” I splutter. “I’ll answer with complete honesty, but then, you will let me go!”
Bishop searches my eyes, his bright, marble wolf ones looking into mine. Why the fuck does the whole skeleton thing do it for me? And why the fuck am I thinking about what does it for me and what doesn’t right now?
“I’ll be the judge of that.” Then he leans forward and nips my lower lip, like he fucking owns it. I growl, the vibration pressing against his chest. “Aw, that’s real cute. The kitty purrs.”
“Fuck you.”
“Can we get to the questions?” Nate says, looking between Bishop and me in disbelief. “Geez, your guys’ hatred used to be hot foreplay, but now I’m seriously thinking I’ll be needing to hide the knives.”
I laugh, tilting my head back, and then look back to Nate. “Oh, you’ll be needing to hide them from me, brother, and I’d be sleeping with one eye open from now on.”
“Hot. Gonna come suck my dick in my sleep?”
“More like bite it off.” I pause and pretend to mull over my thoughts. “Oh, but that would require me actually being able to locate it. Houston, we have a p—”
Bishop slams his hand over my mouth. “Shut the fuck up!”
I nod and he lets go, but I still manage to send a snarl toward Nate.
“Do you know about The Elite Kings?” Bishop shoots off.
“Only what Tatum has told me. Which isn’t much.”
He pauses, waiting for me to continue. “And what is that, exactly?”
My eyes narrow. “It’s literally not much as I can’t even really remember what she said. Honestly? That little race you had, told me more than what Tatum could have.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Nate snaps, his lip curled.
I giggle. Fucking giggle. I could slap myself, but it added to the effect of my sarcasm, so I go with it. “Nate, so you all go do a little underground racing? Big wow, I don’t really care.” My eyes widen at the end of my sentence.
Bishop studies me, and then slowly but surely, his grin tilts up to a full clown smile, displaying his pearly white teeth and dimples. But his eyes? Yeah, his eyes aren’t smiling. They are dark, shaded with hate, and planted by anger. It’s in this very moment I realize that maybe I’m wrong. My face slowly falls, which only makes Nate start grinning.
“Aw, that’s cute, kitten.” He brings his hand up to my dress, over my breasts, and flicks his knife open before slowly cutting down my front. Now my tight strapless dress has a jagged cut down the front, my bright yellow lace bra on full display, but thankfully, because it’s tight, it doesn’t fall off me.
“What the fuck?” I yell at him. “I answered your question. That wasn’t part of the rules!”
Bishop smiles. “I make the rules.”
“Has anyone else spoken to you about us?” he questions.
“What?” Now I’m just over it, sick of the games and the underlying bullshit they seem to put me through. This is the second time they’ve done some fucked up cat-and-mouse game with me, and each passing minute, my patience runs thinner. “No one has said anything! I don’t know who the fuck you are, what the fuck you stand for—or don’t—and I don’t care! Now...” I slice my glare to Bishop. “Let. Me. Go!”
He pauses, studying me closely. “And if I don’t fucking believe you?”
“Then your lie detector is shit.” I stand my ground from my precarious position.
Nate throws me a wink and then walks off toward Hunter and Brantley, who are standing beside a thick tree. Bishop hasn’t moved, his hands still gripping around my thighs tightly. “You fuck him?”
I scowl. “What?”
“You heard me. Answer the question,” he growls, pressing into me again.
“Hang on a second. You guys stalk me, chase me through a forest, scare the shit out of me, tie me up, and cut my fucking dress, and now you’re asking if I fucked Nate, like you give a shit?”
“I didn’t say I give a shit.” Bishop smirks. He drops his lips to my ear, his hand running down the side of my ribs. He squeezes roughly, a little too roughly. Rough enough to leave a bruise. “I just need to know if I won the bet or not,” he seethes through a harsh whisper. I tilt my head back, forcing the tears back. Of course. Of course this is a fucking game to these boys. I’m such a fucking idiot.
“You lost!” Nate laughs, walking back toward us. He comes up beside us, tilting his head at me, before he says harshly, “She didn’t open her gap for me.”
“Fuck you, Nate. Fuck both of you.”
Bishop lets me go instantly and I fall to the ground with a humph, the dirt and leaves grabbing onto my thighs and ass. Bishop leans down and cuts the cable ties in the middle, freeing my wrists. I stretch them out, looking up at him.
“I hate you,” I snarl.
He
